


Winter Never Lasts Forever

by Holly (spaciousbear)



Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Developing Relationship, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Post-Side Story: Garden of Light, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-07
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-10-22 14:15:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17664200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spaciousbear/pseuds/Holly
Summary: Eiji was always a bit more chilled in the winter months, a little more quiet, a touch more withdrawn. He said the cold didn’t agree with him, but Sing could read the meaning beneath that statement. Despite the progress he’d made, he’d accumulated a thick layer of ice around himself to keep any further suffering from coming through. He carried it with him, like his own personal winter that had yet to end.Sing tries to get Eiji out of the apartment for an evening. But they are definitely, totally, 100%noton a date.





	Winter Never Lasts Forever

The end of a gallery show, Sing noticed, was a quiet, solemn affair. When the crowds cleared out and the lights were dimmed, only a handful of staff remained. That, and Sing who tonight had stayed for the duration rather than his usual brief appearance. It had been a good night, the crowd was even bigger than the last show and Eiji seemed in high spirits from the response.

Sing waited outside for the car and held his coat tightly around himself. The line of the street felt gloomy and bare, lit only by sparse street lamps and missing the festive holiday lights that had decorated it only weeks ago. He shivered and rubbed his hands together to stave off the frigid current running through him.

Winters in New York were brutal, not just because they lingered, but because they wavered. Months of built up frost could be interrupted by a brief burst of sunshine, only to be pulled back once again like a cruel relapse. Sometimes it felt like the cold, dreary months would never come to an end. But spring always did make its way there, however many false starts it had. At the moment, Sing wished that mere thoughts of spring could somehow warm him as he held his hands up to blow hot puffs of air against them.

He didn’t have time to dwell on these thoughts as the sound of an engine running caught his attention. When the car slowly pulled up to the curb, Sing held a hand up to signal to them, let the driver know he’d be back momentarily, and then went inside to retrieve Eiji.

Inside, he found Eiji right where he expected, hovering near “Dawn.” He was gathering his things, not quite looking at the photo but seemingly content to be close to it. Ash’s portrait loomed behind him, larger-than-life even now, a look of serenity draped over his youthful beauty. Behind Eiji, he almost looked like a fierce, watchful angel. Or perhaps simply a phantom perched atop its prey. Eiji made no motion to acknowledge Sing’s approach, lost within his own thoughts.

Eiji was always a bit more chilled in the winter months, a little more quiet, a touch more withdrawn. He said the cold didn’t agree with him, but Sing could read the meaning beneath that statement. This time of year was hard on him - it was a cold winter day when Ash died, when Eiji returned to New York. Despite the progress he’d made, he’d accumulated a thick layer of ice around himself to keep any further suffering from coming through. He carried it with him, like his own personal winter that had yet to end.

“The car’s here, Eiji,” Sing motioned to the door, his voice soft so as not to startle him. Eiji glanced over at him and smiled.

“Thank you, Sing. I’ll be ready in a second.”

Sing stayed in place as Eiji pulled on his coat and cast one final look at the portrait behind him before turning to face Sing once more.

“Tonight went really well,” Sing commented. At this, Eiji’s bashful smile perked up a little more.

“I think so. A few people were very interested and asked me a lot of questions. One woman even asked me if I had plans for Valentine’s day,” Eiji finished with a laugh of disbelief and Sing held back a smile.

“I think I overheard her asking one of the staff if you were seeing anyone. People are starting to think you’re quite the enigma. Maybe you _should_ make some plans for the holiday.”

“I am not interested, you know that. Plus I have a lot of work to do, planning for the next exhibit.”

“That’s not the first person who’s asked about you, you know.”

“I’m very flattered.”

“It might not be such a bad idea to go out and get to know someone new. Just for one day - tomorrow’s Valentine’s day, right? I might be out of town and I don’t want you to be cooped up by yourself.” Sing knew he was pushing buttons Eiji kept hidden on purpose, but these thoughts had been bubbling under the surface for quite some time, waiting for the right opportunity to emerge.

“It is just another day. Why do you care so much if I have plans?”

Sing wanted to tell him the truth - because shutting himself away with the cold comfort of old photographs wasn’t much better than months ago when he refused to look at them at all.

“Because you never do. You’re always working or caught up with something else.”

“I have a lot I need to get done…” Eiji wasn’t even listening to him now and Sing breathed out in frustration.

“Have you ever even _been_ on a date before?”

It was the wrong thing to say. He knew that and regretted the words immediately after he’d spoken them, but his mouth had pulled the trigger before he could think. Eiji’s face turned, not to anger, but to a gentle, disappointed sadness.

“Do you pity me so much?”

“No! Eiji, I didn’t mean it like that, it’s just…” Sing paused to better consider his words. “I’ve never seen you show interest in anyone - not in a long time. You always stay behind, by yourself. I don’t want to see you lonely.”

“I am not lonely, Sing. I have many friends. I have Buddy. I have you. If you all have plans one night out of the year, I will not die of loneliness.”

For a minute, Sing was at a loss for words. Maybe Eiji was right - maybe Sing was the one seeing this the wrong way and Eiji was happy enough, in his own way. But so long as Eiji buried himself under photos and turned his back to the warmth of other people, Sing couldn’t accept that answer so easily.

“How about we make plans for tomorrow then?”

“I thought you were busy - out of town, right?”

“I’ll cancel,” Sing waved off his bluff being called with ease. “I’m serious.”

“What, so like a date with you?” There was a teasing undertone to his words, as though the thought itself was absurd.

“Not like that, Eiji, just… well fine. It’ll be like a friend-date. We’ll see a movie. We’ll grab dinner. We’ll get out of the damn house and enjoy the city for a few hours.”

“Sounds like something we could do any day. Things we do all the time.”

“Then it doesn’t matter what day it’s on, right? Work can wait one day and you can hang out with me.”

Eiji was quiet, clearly considering his options, but the fondly amused look on his face told Sing he’d already decided.

“Okay. That sounds like fun.”

**********

At the start of the night, they found themselves at a local movie theater, the kind that was small enough to almost never acquire new movies while they were still actually new. In fact, they were showing an old movie that night, a well-tread favorite that Sing and Eiji had watched many times on the small TV set in the apartment. The theater nearly empty, they were free to watch it in almost the exact same manner as they would in the comfort of the living room. It was like falling into an old familiar pattern: they laughed at the same jokes they knew so well and when the time came, they recited their favorite line aloud together before falling back into stifled laughter.

After the movie, they walked in the idle pursuit of dinner. Sing let Eiji lead the way, and he again chose something familiar in the form of his favorite sushi restaurant. The two of them had ordered take out from this particular place a hundred times, so it was a strange feeling to sit inside for once. The atmosphere wasn’t bad as far as Sing was concerned, not overly casual and not overly romantic. Or it wouldn’t seem so if, around them, a dozen or more couples weren’t going about their own evenings, smiling and talking in hushed voices over their meals. Even stranger was coming face-to-face with the person whose voice they recognized as one who took their order over the phone almost every time. Perhaps she felt the same discomfort as she stumbled over the awkward pauses and uncertainly identified them as a couple out to celebrate the holiday. To this, Eiji only laughed and never bothered correcting her.

If Eiji found it odd for them to be the only platonic pair out together on Valentine’s day, he didn’t make a point to express it. Eiji was smiling and laughing a lot, more than Sing had seen him in weeks - jarring as it was, Sing was glad. There was a casual comfort to spending time with Eiji like this, someone who had already seen him fumble with the coffee pot, half asleep, on a lazy morning. With Eiji there was never any pretense, and accordingly, he had chosen some of the most casual activities to partake in. Everything was familiar but somehow different.

So it didn’t feel strange when they took a longer path back to the apartment, their wandering taking them to parts of the city Sing remembered once prowling but hardly paying much notice to any longer. As they walked, Eiji rubbed his hands together with a shiver and Sing noticed that they were growing red with cold.

“Did you forget your gloves?” Sing asked and Eiji paused his motions.

“Ah - no. I think I must have dropped them somewhere at the theater.”

Sing stared at his hands as Eiji resumed his attempt to warm them. If this had been anyone else, if this had been a date, the appropriate thing to do would have been to take his partner’s hand into his own and let the heat seep into it slowly with skin contact. He felt the urge to do just that and decisively resisted it. It wasn’t what Eiji needed and it certainly wasn’t what he wanted.

“You can borrow mine,” he offered instead.

“No, I think I’ll be fine.”

They walked only a few more blocks in a comfortable quiet before Eiji stilled. It took Sing a moment to register that he was no longer in step with him and when he turned to find him, Eiji was standing in front of an old building. Its age had been covered up with layers of paint and a brightly lit sign but there were cracks and signs of decay that betrayed its history. Sing followed Eiji’s line of sight and found it was fixed on the sign. There was nothing special about it that he could see, the name of the restaurant that had just opened there. Sing took a step closer, tentative.

“If I’d known you were interested in Thai, I would have planned for that.”

Eiji shook his head and his eyes did not move away from the sign for a few long seconds. Finally, he looked at Sing.

“No, it’s not that. It’s just… this used to be a ramen shop, up until a few years ago. It was my favorite. It closed very suddenly and it is strange to see it replaced by something else.”

Sing measured out his next words with care as he listened. There was something more to this, he could feel that much from Eiji’s shift in mood.

“I’m sorry I missed out on it then, it must have been pretty good. But hey, maybe this place is good too? It can’t hurt to try something new.”

Eiji was quiet again and Sing considered taking him by the arm and pulling him away before he could sink further into this dark, deep well of memory. But before Sing could do anything, Eiji spoke again.

“I came here with Ash one time.” There it was, the something more.

“Yeah?”

“Mmm. Only once, but I remember it very well. He had never eaten rice ramen before and did it completely wrong.” There was a sad warmth to his words, like the memory was a dying ember about to go out for good.

“Sounds about right.”

“We never went back after that time. Thinking back now… that may have been the closest I ever had to a date.”

Sing saw the shadow before it hit; it crashed over them like a wave, pulling both into its undertow. Eiji’s posture stiffened and he turned from the building. He’d already taken several steps away before Sing could react and he caught up with him in a few long strides.

“Hey, we should get home. It’s getting pretty late,” he suggested.

Eiji paused to nod his affirmation but did not respond any further. Sing pulled up beside him as they walked in the direction of the apartment but Eiji didn’t seem to be aware of his presence anymore. He was lost in a memory, one that Sing had no place in - the roads he walked now were tracing the familiar streets of years prior, his vision awash with things he could no longer physically see.

Sing could feel it, Ash’s ghost, standing there between them as it always did. Selfish in its insistence on keeping Eiji tethered to the past.

Eiji was quiet the rest of the way back. Sing didn’t try to break the silence - he’d found it was best to leave him space in these moments when they came on, sudden as it was. Sing stared downward at the snow crunching beneath his feet as a dull shame flooded him. Sometimes it seemed hopeless, the way everything came back to this point. Even after seeing Eiji smile, laughing for hours, able to be present in the moment and allow himself to be _alive_ for even this short time, it never lasted. The crash inevitably came and Sing could only watch while he failed his friend once more. Unable to help him, unable to pull him out of the pit he was sinking into, able to make him surface for small gasps of air but ultimately still watching him drown in it.

Sometimes he couldn’t even bear to watch, and so Sing kept his eyes to the ground for a long while. When he finally did spare a glance, he was surprised to find that Eiji’s face didn’t reflect the tired melancholy he associated with his silent spells. It appeared that he was thinking - worried, even. Sing didn’t say anything, but he did reach out, even as he felt his hand pass through the ghost that separated them, and placed a gentle hand on Eiji’s back. Even if it wasn’t enough, it was all he could offer. Eiji seemed to wake up then, just a little, his posture relaxing and awareness warming his eyes.

They reached the apartment, still in silence. Normally, this would be the point where Sing would bid his prospective interest a good night, leave them at the door with a chaste kiss to remember him by. But, of course, this wasn’t a date and so Sing opened the door for the two of them and wordlessly followed Eiji inside.

“Thank you, Sing,” Eiji said, almost immediately after the door had closed behind them. “It was… nice to get out for a little bit.” Eiji unbuttoned his coat with mechanical precision, turning to face Sing as he spoke.

“Any time, Eiji.” Sing offered what he hoped read as a careless smile but felt more like a numb, apologetic grimace.

“I think I’ll head to bed now.”

As Eiji moved towards his bedroom door, Sing began to mirror his action, and the two broke into separate directions. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Eiji pause just as he reached the door and his body turn.

“Sing?”

Sing paused before he reached his own room and changed direction, compelled to close the distance between them; Eiji waited quietly as Sing approached him in the door frame.

“Are you okay?” Sing asked as Eiji watched him step closer and stop right in front of him.

“I was just thinking, on the way back… I think maybe you are right. It might be nice to try the new restaurant sometime.”

“I’m glad you think so. I happen to think I’m right about a lot of things.”

It was a relief to see the twitch at the corner of Eiji’s mouth as a laugh threatened to break through. Eiji’s episode tonight was brief and he was coming back to himself again.

“You were right about one other thing,” Eiji began.

“What’s that?”

“Tonight did not really feel like a date.”

Sing’s smile faded, a little more deflated than he expected by the insinuation. He gave a quick nod of the head, his eyes averted.

“It was… missing something,” Eiji continued.

Sing glanced back up to find Eiji’s face flushed with warmth. He almost opened his mouth to speak, almost asked, but Eiji’s eyes never left his and Sing felt the urge to lean forward before he could convince himself not to. He was sure he was going to hug Eiji, certain that he needed some small gesture of comfort, but hesitated only inches away, unsure of himself.

Eiji made a decision for both of them; he leaned forward then to meet him and their lips pressed together in a brief, shy kiss.

As quickly as it had happened, Eiji pulled back and again his face had an unreadable quality to it. It wasn’t quite a smile curving the line of his lips, but his melancholy had thawed into something softer, a troubled yet determined hope. Something familiar, yet different.

“Good night, Sing,” was all he said as he stepped back and began to shut his door.

It was a slow thaw, but even a glacier could melt to an ocean given enough time.

“Good night, Eiji,” Sing replied. Eiji’s door closed with a soft click and Sing’s retreat to his own bedroom was slow and thoughtful.

Melting something that had been so cold for so long wasn’t easy. It required patience and constant, consistent warmth. But it could be done. Warmth was something Sing could provide, like the heat from his palm seeping into a gloveless hand. Spring always made its way eventually, and for now, one small bud held the promise of blossoming into a garden.

**Author's Note:**

> I love sad, unrequited Sing/Eiji most of the time, but I'm a softie for Valentine's Day and wanted to write something a bit more hopeful for the two of them. 
> 
> Title taken from the Marit Larsen song "Winter Never Lasts Forever" that also helped inspire this.


End file.
